The ancient Persian capital of Persepolis, in a vast and arid plain 40 miles from Shiraz in southern Iran, is the greatest ancient site between the Holy Land and India. This is a rare place that actually exceeded my high expectations.

My main regret in traveling through Iran on my first visit (back in 1978) was not trekking south to Persepolis. Now, visiting with my public television film crew 30 years later, I’ve finally experienced it.

We arrived after a long day of driving — just in time for that “magic hour” before the sun sets. The light was glorious, the stones glowed rosy, and all the visitors seemed to be enjoying a special “sightseeing high.” Iranians were savoring this reminder that their nation was a huge and mighty empire 2,500 years ago.

Iranians visit this grand ceremonial headquarters of the Persian Empire with a great sense of pride. For an American, it would be like having Monticello, Cape Canaveral and Mount Rushmore all rolled into one magnificent sight. The soul of Iran is Persia, which predates the introduction of Islam here by a thousand years.

Persepolis was the capital of the Persian Empire back when it reached from Greece to India. For nearly 200 years, from 518 B.C. to 333 B.C., this was the dazzling home of the “King of Kings.”

Built by Darius and his son Xerxes the Great around 500 B.C., it’s a complex of palaces of the greatest kings of the day. They were so strong no fortifications were needed. Still, 10,000 guards were permanently posted here. Walking through the mighty “Nations’ Gate,” you can imagine dignitaries from the 28 nations subjugated by Persia also entering — “we’re not worthy”-style — to pay their taxes and humble respect to the emperor.

Like the message future superpowers would sell their subjects, ancient cuneiform inscriptions above the gate say the same thing in three languages. Roughly: The king is empowered by God. Submit totally to him for the good of Persia. All nations can live in peace if you are compliant.

Grand royal tombs, the scale of Egyptian pharaohs — or Mount Rushmore, are cut into the adjacent mountainside. The awe-inspiring tombs of Darius and Xerxes come with huge carved reliefs featuring ferocious lions: Even in death, they’re reminding us of their great power.

But no empire lasts forever. In 333 B.C. Persepolis was sacked and burned by Alexander the Great, the Macedonian Greek who turned the tide against Persia. Ending Persian dominance, he spread his Greek culture all the way to India. Persepolis has been in ruins ever since.

The temperature dropped dramatically (as it does in the desert when the sun goes down). I pressed my body against the massive stone walls to feel the warmth stored in the stones. (The next morning, under a blistering sun, I hugged the same wall to catch the cool of the night that it still possessed.)

I was impressed that the approach to this awe-inspiring site was marred by a vast and ugly tarmac with 1970s-era light poles. This is left from a party the Shah threw celebrating the 2,500th-year anniversary of the Persian Empire and designed to remind the world that he ruled Persia as a modern-day Xerxes or Darius. The Shah flew in dignitaries from all over the world, along with dinner from the finest restaurants in Europe. Iranian historians consider this arrogant display of imperial wealth and Western decadence the beginning of the end for the Shah. Within a year, he was gone and Khomeini was in. I think the ugly parking lot and light poles are left here so visiting locals can remember who their revolution overthrew.

I saw more Western tourists visiting Persepolis than any other single sight in Iran. (In comparison to the elegant way Iranian women wear their required scarves, the female tourists looked gawky in scarves, though none looked as silly as me, wearing my script as a sun hat.) The Western tourists were from all over Europe and Australia — all with local guides, most with the Lonely Planet guidebook to Iran, and everyone marveling at how Iran has great tourism potential.

Persepolis has the majesty of Giza or Luxor in Egypt. And I was most struck not by the international tourists, but by the local people who travel here to connect with their Persian heritage. Wandering the sight, you feel the omnipotence of the Persian Empire and get a strong appreciation for the enduring strength of this culture and its people.

By Rick Steves

It isn’t top of the holiday hot-list, but get beyond the terror headlines and you will be stunned by the warm welcome and architectural treasures Iran has to offer.

IRAN is not an obvious holiday destination. Alcohol is banned and the opportunities to sunbathe or strike up a romance are slim, to say the least. Tell people you are going and reactions will be somewhere along the lines of “You’re going where? Why? Isn’t it dangerous?

But travellers prepared to get behind the ‘axis of evil’ terrorist headlines and confront preconceptions of religious extremism are rewarded with an unforgettable trip that will be full of surprises. There are ancient cultural wonders, splendid architecture, wonderful bazaars, fascinating landscapes and even great skiing.

But first there is the friendliness and hospitality offered by local people. Spend some time in Iran and you will soon realise that Iranians are much more tolerant and open-minded than you may have garnered from the news pages. And far from being dangerous, Iran – notwithstanding the chaotic traffic situation – is a remarkably safe and welcoming place.

I backpacked around Iran for a month, taking the three-day journey from Istanbul on the Trans-Asia Express. With a smattering of mildly eccentric foreigners on board (Iran seems to attract such people), the journey was straight out an Agatha Christie novel – minus the murder.

I disembarked before Tehran in order to explore the seldom-visited north-west of the country, heading first to the charming, cloud-draped mountain village of Masuleh near the Caspian Sea. Reached via a beautiful drive past tea plantations and rice paddies, the journey takes the traveller up through a deeply forested verdant valley. I spent a few days there relaxing on the rooftop verandas of the tea shops, drinking glass after glass of black tea, smoking lemon-and-mint hubble-bubbles and enjoying wonderful dishes of garlic aubergine.

From Masuleh I headed in a general anti-clockwise loop around the country. Getting around Iran is fast, easy and very cheap. An internal plane ticket can be had for around £15 to £30, and a 12-hour bus or train journey typically costs around £3. As soon as people are seated, they will take out their refreshments – nuts, fruits, biscuits, tea, fruit juices – and share them with people sitting nearby.

In a country where foreigners are still a rarity, Iranians will take a lot of polite interest in you. They are not shy and, by British standards, get personal very quickly (enquiring whether you are married and, if not, why not, are among the first questions they ask). They will also want to know what you think of the country and why you chose to visit, often remarking with a wry smile: “But you think we are all terrorists, no?” It is not unusual to receive invitations to people’s homes for tea, a meal or even to sleep. Invitations for food should not be turned down lightly. Meals in Iran are big family affairs and the food is excellent.

My first stop was one of Iran’s eight Unesco World Heritage Sites – the 3,250-year-old temple of Choqa Zanbil, on the border with Iraq. The best surviving example of Elamite architecture in the world, it was ‘rediscovered’ in 1935 by oil prospectors for the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company, which later became BP.

The next stage of my journey took me to Esfahan, about 200 miles south of Tehran, an important architectural centre of the Islamic world. One of the city’s main attractions is the 17th-century Imam Square, best seen at dusk when families come out to picnic and the lights show the dazzling Imam Mosque and the apricot and turquoise-domed Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque at their best.

From Esfahan I travelled south across the Zagros Mountains to Shiraz, the city that gave the world the famous variety of grapes – as well as roses and poetry. Most people use Shiraz as a staging post to visit the nearby ancient sites of Pasargadae, Naqsh-e Rostam and Persepolis. Pasargadae was once the capital of Persia’s first ruler, Cyrus the Great, and you can visit his lonely tomb and the remains of his palace. But it was eclipsed by the palace complex of Persepolis, built by another great ruler, Darius I. Constructed as the masterpiece of the once-mighty Persian empire, the ancient remains are still awe-inspiring, even though Alexander the Great tried to raze it in 330BC. The soaring columns, immense archways and magnificent statues were built to impress and they still do.

Back in Tehran, the only thing heavier than the traffic was the make-up worn by some of the women – the same women whose headscarves barely clung on above quaffed and highlighted hair and who had ditched the shapeless chador for close-fitting black outfits. Tehran is big, bustling, with an estimated 14 million people, and not that pretty, but can be lots of fun.

One of my favourite sites in the capital was the old US embassy, where slogans were painted on the walls outside, including: “We will make America face a great defeat.” I also saw on the side of a block of flats a giant mural of an American flag with skulls for the stars and bombs raining down the stripes with the slogan: “Down with the USA.”

But, like many people’s memories of the revolution, these murals have faded. The majority of Iran’s population have no memory of it at all – 60% are under 35, and many I met want to emigrate to the USA.

Historically, Iran has been a tolerant and outward-looking society. Today, it is deeply misunderstood by many westerners. So look beyond the headlines and discover a fascinating country where your deepest impressions are likely to be of the heart-warming hospitality. It was a shock when I returned home and had to pay £30 for a two-hour bus journey – and everybody ignored me.

By Scott Hussey

For some reason, planes leave Iran for the West in the wee hours. My departure was at 3 a.m. My crew caught a flight two hours earlier. My guide went home. I was groggy and all alone. While eager to leave, I was savoring every last impression before flying exactly the opposite route the Ayatollah flew as he returned home to toss out the shah.

Walking down the jetway to my Air France plane at Tehran’s Ayatollah Khomeini Airport, I saw busty French flight attendants — hair flowing freely — at the plane’s door. It was as if they were pulling people symbolically back into the Western world. As though the plane were a lifeboat, people entered with a sigh of relief. Women pulled off their scarves…and suddenly we were all free to be what to us was so “normal.”

For ten days, I was out of my comfort zone in a land where people live under a theocracy — a land that found different truths to be god-given and self-evident. I tasted not a drop of alcohol (Islam is dry). I never encountered a urinal (Islamic men squat). Women were not to show the shape of their body or their hair (they were beautiful nevertheless). And people took photos of me, as if I were the cultural spectacle.

On my first day back in Europe, I noticed hair, necklines, and tight pants like never before. I sipped wine as if it were heaven-sent. And, standing before that first urinal, I was thankful to be a Westerner.

Paris seemed designed to accentuate the cultural differences. When I saw a provocatively dressed woman — tattooed breast barely covered by a black-lingerie top — I kind of missed the thrill of a little extra hair on the forehead of a chador-clad woman. University students sat at outdoor cafés, men and women mingling indiscriminately, discussing whatever hot-button issue interested them. Out of Iran and back in the West, I felt an energy and a volume and an efficiency that is cranked up. People — not on the valium of a revolution of values — are free to be “evil.”

Of course, I would never choose to live according to the Islamic Revolution. But I gained a respect for people who are living what they call a ‘values revolution” — a respect that I could only understand by actually traveling there. And I overcame a fear that plagues many who’ve yet to visit Iran.

What do I conclude from this experience? If I were to make any judgment on their theocracy, it would be to point out the irony of a society that is aggressively theocratic, yet actually seems less spiritual than a neighboring, secular Muslim nation — Turkey, where five times a day it’s hard to walk down the sidewalk because mosques are overflowing with people praying.

All the “death to America” and “death to Israel” posters Westerners fixate on are impossible to defend. But I will say they seemed very incongruous with the people I met. It made me wonder if the penchant for Iranians to declare “death” to so many things is not so different from Westerners who exclaim “damn those French” or “damn those cowboys” or “damn this traffic jam.” Even though this actually means “die and then burn in hell”…of course we don’t mean it literally.

There’s a lot of debate between our two nations about who’s right and who’s wrong. Many who comment on this blog seem to know. Some issues (such as the wrongness of denying the holocaust) seem clear-cut. But, as I leave Iran, I’m not convinced that everything is so straightforward. Politicians come and go…but people are here to stay. I leave thankful that I don’t live in Iran. Yet I believe the vast majority of Iranians — regardless of what they think of their current government — would choose to live nowhere else.

After this experience, I’m reminded of the fundamental value as well as the simple fun of travel. When we travel — whether to a land our president has declared part of an “Axis of Evil,” or just to a place where people yodel when they’re happy or fight bulls to impress the girls or can’t serve breakfast until today’s croissants arrive — we enrich our lives and better understand our place on this planet. It’s my hope that with people-to-people connections, we can overcome our fear and mistrust of each other, and, at a minimum, learn to co-exist peacefully. And that gives me and my partners here at ETBD meaning in our work. Thanks for traveling with me via this blog through Iran. I hope you enjoyed the journey.

Rick Steves on June 20, 2008